Ashes to Ashes
by Das-Kaninchen
Summary: He was the pride of New Scotland Yard, yet his mind constantly lingered on the past. When his former leader is in town, a string of unsual murders ensue , and Lyserg is forced to question his own morality in the hunt for the Cerberus Killer.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer-I do not own Shaman King. If I did, I would immediately change the manga's cheesy ending.

This takes place ten years after Funbari no Uta. Also in this story, Ren and Jeanne never hit it off and have Men. This story is based off the manga, not the anime.

* * *

Parliament was in session.

He could tell by how the clock he was leaning on reflected the Palace of Westminster's light back. Those large time hands ticking slowly against the yellow backdrop until it hit the middle and stopped for a second. The thirteen ton bell hidden behind its walls suddenly activated and he reveled in the feeling of the vibrations on his back and the ringing reverberating in his ears.

It signified it was midnight.

Lyserg held a Winston to his lips before breathing in deeply and exhaling a cloud of smoke two inches from his face. Morphine was on his shoulder and was looking at her master, with worry. Zeruel sat at the tip of the tower, and the Spirit of Fire did not stir as it sat quietly in the Thames River and stared at the pedestrians walking on the Westminster Bridge.

The Englishman looked out towards the the buslting city of London and watched as the city's lights shined brightly amidst the darkness of night as if making an artificial galaxy of sorts. Lyserg observed his green and black checkered scarf blowing directly behind him and leaving a cold sting on his skin.

"Winter must be coming," said the dowser as he inhaled his cigarette once more. Morphine simply looked at him with her knees tucked into her chest and pondered on how time had gone by so fast. How this boy had suddenly turned into a man that seemed to be weary all the time.

Lyserg began to walk towards the edge of Saint Stephen's Tower, though most called it the "Big Ben". He kindly asked Morphine if he could have a moment of privacy and watched as she flew towards Zeruel's side and observed the full moon.

Lyserg knew that it was illegal to be up on the Big Ben without permission, though knowing this law did not stop him in the past and that it never would. The only ones who came up here were the clock's engineers and repairmen and he was much too small to be noticed by the people below. Besides, it was on cold nights like these that put him at ease when his insomnia kept him awake.

'_Th inconstant moon._

Staring at the pale whiteness of that great orb in the sky reminded him of a time when he was enshrouded with the pale whiteness of the Great Spirit. But one thought tends to lead to another thought. From the Shaman Fight to training in Hell. From surviving the Plants to encountering the Shaman King. And the Shaman King led to…

Hao Asakura.

Hao Asakura led to the word _ultimatum._

Lyserg stopped his cigarette a few inches from his mouth and pondered on that one English word descended from a Latin root.

_The Demand._

He recalled that moment when he and the other four elemental warriors faced Hao in an epic fight between the earth and the universe. Once the stalemate started, he remembered when a look of anger was present on Hao's face.

The dowser then remembered when a look of relief occurred on his own face.

This was the deal, according to Hao Asakura, official Shaman King and therefore the could-be destroyer of the human race. The Shamanic Society was given five hundred years to "save" the world. If by the next tournament, the world was not as Hao saw fit, Hao's vision of a society run by shamans with he as the head would be made a reality in the blink of an eye.

All of man's hopes, struggles, ambitions, passions, and dreams all down the drain in one second.

…….

…….

_We can't do it._

……

Lyserg dwelled on it for a moment.

_He knew this would happen._

_He was right to call us naïve._

_I…we….none of us were thinking of how reality actually works. Ask five teenagers if in five-hundred years we'll stop starting wars, stealing from hard workers, fighting over little differences like religion and color of skin, and finally stop its greedy consumption of earth? Of course they'll say yes, five hundred years seems like a long time to a bunch of kids._

He shivered as a gust of wind hit him in the face.

_Earth has been our home for thousands of years. It was seventeen years ago I heard that murderer make his deal. Well, here I am now, seventeen years later after. I'm thirty-one and what do you know? There are ongoing genocides and no nation on earth is giving a damn about it. There are people starving to death and yet nations seem more concerned with their military prestige than its fellow human. The ice is melting, forests are burning, animals are dying, yet they say we're not polluting what the Great Spirit has given us? Oh, great, the humans might not even need Hao to become extinct. At this rate, we might just end up blowing ourselves up._

Lyserg exhaled a puff of smoke once more before saying aloud,"Four hundred and eighty three years to go mankind. Can you make it?" His face broke into a frown.

At age five, he promised to make the world a better place by becoming a policeman and enforcing justice. At age seventeen, he entered City University London and graduated at age twenty one. At age twenty one, he worked his way up the ranks of the Metropolitan Police Force. He was now known as Detective L. Diethel. And he rather liked the title. Investigator Diethel of New Scotland Yard.

Lyserg was very proud of himself on the day of his promotion. His colleagues even joked that he'd be doing the city well if he were Chief Constable. Yet he was happy with being an investigator and didn't bother to try and get himself promoted. He could have easily been of a higher rank, the dowser had an aptitude for this field of work, and being a shamanic policeman had its advantages. He was very well-known throughout the city and had caught the eye of his superiors for many years.

It was all so perfect, just like he had imagined when he was a child.

Until that one day when a rapist had gotten off with no sentence due to lack of "physical evidence". Though his crystal pendulum had pointed at a car burning by the side of a country road with pieces of female undergarments still in it.

Humans may have based their cases on physical evidence, but shamans like the Diethels did not base their cases on ever-changing physical matter, much as Juliet did not want her Romeo to swear his love by the inconstant moon.

No, they based it off of something much higher than the physical realm. Morphine and he were at the trial as the victim went through what Lyserg called her second rape. Telling her experience in front of an entire panel of strangers and in front of the man who did it. The Englishman was very uncomfortable throughout it as he sensed the burning fire of hate and pain in her heart; much like his had been years ago.

And it got worse from there.

One rapist let go turned into two child molesters let go. Two child molesters turned into five embezzlers let loose. Five embezzlers turned into twenty drug dealers with minor fines. Twenty drug dealers turned into thirty human traffickers with five year sentences. Thirty human traffickers turned into one man admitted into a hospital because of feigned insanity. One free man out of a psychiatric hospital turned into one murderer which turned into exactly three hundred and seventy two people lying dead with a burning airport terminal collapsed on top of them.

A tear drop fell down his cheek.

_What exactly is….justice?_

Lyserg knew this was the cause of corrupt lawyers and judges, easily swayed by the sight of pounds and any other currency in their face. It was on one of his eavesdropping sessions that he realized at that moment that there was no hope of saving the world. Even with the fortunes of him, Tao Ren, Manta, and all of the richest men and women in the world combined; it would never be enough to appease the greed of human beings. The world ran on money, and all the money in the world would never be enough. This was fact.

_Love can't save the world._

Lyserg threw his cigarette off the tower and spat towards the ground as if to insult something. The dowser watched it with hawk-like eyes as it fell into an alley-way and glowed red-hot for a moment before turning into ashes.

"_**Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."**_

He tensed up, wondering where the voice had come from. He looked downwards at the Palace of Westminster then at the people walking down below.

He clenched his fists.

"So", he whispered, before finally yelling out, "SMALL!" and he spat at the ground once more.

Lyserg immediately placed his hands on his mouth as if he had just said unholy words that would summon Mephistopheles, Ibis, Lucifer, Mara, and every other personification of evil right by his side, ready to drag him into the world of eternal damnation. Zeruel looked down. Morphine's eyes widened. The Spirit of Fire turned its head to look towards the face of the clock where his current master was. He breathed in deeply with both hands still on his mouth before letting his arms down.

_That bastard was right. _

One tear drop.

_Humans are disgusting._

Two tear drops.

_Maybe…_

Three tears drops.

_Hao had a right to kill them…_

He stepped towards the edge of the tower.

_Maybe…_

Lyserg looked downwards as if the meaning of life were at the bottom.

_Mother and Father…_

Morphine flew downwards, Zeruel followed suit, even the Spirit of Fire seemed to rival the speed of sound at the moment.

_Were disgusting people too._

He closed his eyes, took one foot off the ground, placed it in the air, and prepared to take the step. All three of his spirits were ready to tackle him.

**Wait.**

Lyserg stopped.

**Look.**

He opened his eyes.

"_**Don't worry."**_

A snowflake.

"_**It'll work out somehow."**_

Just one snow flake.

_Yoh?_

Falling delicately from a cloud.

"_**Justice always wins."**_

_Marco?_

Lyserg looked at that one snowflake, observed it from all angles as it spun around in the wind. From one side, it looked like the sign of the cross. On the other, a seemingly random pattern of dots. It nearly slammed into his face, and from there it took the shape of an X before looping around and falling.

This one snowflake was eventually followed by millions of others.

Even the three spirits halted for a moment to observe this sight. The sight of seeing many of these uniquely patterned ice crystals all floating down to the ground. Some of the people below too stopped and stared. Others didn't give a damn. To them, it was just a sign that their heating bills would be rising as much as the price of gas.

_Wow…_

He was still awe-struck. It hadn't snowed in London since he was six.

He stared at it for a while, and then wondered why he was standing on one foot. A breathe of wind came by and forced him to take a step back. The three spirits regained their composure and Morphine flew straight into his cheek that made Lyserg turn his head. When he faced forward again, he felt stinginess on his skin and looked at his spirit who looked absolutely furious, yet there were tear drops falling down her face. Zeruel and the Spirit of Fire looked at him as if he was in a court of chivalrous knights and he had just hit a lady.

Morphine then ran into his shoulder and cried into it as Lyserg was still in shock over what he had almost done.

_These are the thoughts of the old me._

He clenched his chest. All four of them stayed there, not exactly sure what to do. The only noise made was that of London, the wind, and crying.

"Sorry." He whispered to Morphine. It was almost inaudible. He put her hand on her back. "I'm sorry." He looked at the other two. "I was weak."

Ten minutes passed, maybe thirty. The detective lost count as he stared at the snow and did not know what to think anymore.

His mobile phone rang. That seemed to break the moment. Lyserg took it out of his pocket as Morphine lifted her head. He pressed the talk button, and answered.

"Hello, L. Diethel speaking."

"Lyserg?"

He stopped, scanned the confines of his brain, and wondered why this voice seemed so familiar. Was this someone from the department? No, no, that couldn't be. He certainly remembered it being a lot more soft and high-pitched.

Lyserg decided to take a stab in the dark.

"….Lady Jeanne?"

There was an awkward silence.

One….

Two…

Three…

"Is this Ryu-"

"Ah, I'm so glad you recognized my voice!" the girl replied in a very excited, yet dulcet tone. Lyserg nearly fell over. "I apologize for the silence. I had to put the phone down for a bit so I could put in some coins."

Lyserg coughed nervously, and then shook it off as Morphine inched closer to listen to what was going on.

"I'm sorry for calling you so late, Lyserg. Were you sleeping? I didn't mean to wake you."

"N-No, of course not!"

_I get about two hours of sleep anyway._

"H-How are you? It's been so long!" Lyserg began moving around as he talked. "Where have you been? What have you been doing all these years?" He stopped in his place instead of pacing back and forth like a cop about to slap an uncooperative suspect. She did mention something about a telephone. "Wait, Lady Maiden. Where exactly are you?"

Jeanne had been listening to him babbling for a good minute, but she was quite happy to listen. "Why, I'm right here on Oxford Street." She looked back and forth. "In one of these red telephone booths."

He entered another excited frenzy. "Maiden! You're here in London?"

"Yes, I just checked into my hotel about an hour ago. I was going to call you earlier, but it took quite a while for airport security to clear me."

His excitement meter went down a tad. "Ah, there's a reason for that." He stopped himself. Even the thought of Terminal Five and Pyre Sunday made his blood boil. "Ignore that, Maiden."

He then took another breath.

"Lady Jeanne, if it does not interfere with whatever business you are conducting here, would you perhaps like to meet tomorrow?"

Another silence.

"It's been a long time. I have so many questions." He paused again. "And I haven't seen you since the Shaman Fight."

Yoh, Ren, HoroHoro, Anna, Ryu, Chocolove, and the others he visited once every two years at the Funbari Hot Springs for special occasions whenever they occurred. Jeanne he hadn't seen in person since Marco died, and the two usually never carried on a full length conversation by phone.

"That…"

A pause.

"That's exactly why I called you." she said in an innocent voice.

Lyserg then stated the address of a quaint eatery that he and his co-workers often stopped by after work. Policemen knew the best places to eat after all.

"Good night, Lady Maiden. Please, get some rest and stay warm."

"Thank you. Good night, Lyserg."

Both of them hung up at the same time. Lyserg looked towards the ground once more, filled with an excitement he hadn't felt in quite a long time. He tightened his trench coat and loosened his scarf, but not before looking down at the bottom of the tower once more to look at the people.

"_Dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return?"_

He snapped his head back up.

"Let's go home. Looks like I will have to sleep tonight." He told his spirits as they all returned into their respective mediums. Lyserg then proceeded to tie his pendulum to a secure hole in the clock and quietly began to lower himself down onto the street.

* * *

In an alleyway, a monstrous, black canine popped out against the white background of the snow. It proceeded to sniff a small pile of ashes on the ground before it put its head back up and grunted.

A hummingbird appeared at the dog's left.

The monster's eyes glowed red for a moment before nudging towards the hummingbird. Both it and the bird turned around and ran at a high speed before turning into wisps of black and green.

_Flick._

And they were gone.

* * *

I really apologize for it being so long, but I couldn't figure out a way to break it up into smaller chapters without making it seem, well, like one big chapter cut up into smaller pieces. And sorry for all the Lyserg "emo-ness", but I was trying to show that he, as a law enforcer, realized that the task of a peaceful world was impossible.

The idea seems weird to me, and it might seem weird to you, the readers, too. But I was really craving some "Lyserg actually being a detective" action. And if you notice in the last paragraph, there's a little reference to To Kill a Mockingbird.

Anyway, reviews are appreciated. Though you don't have to. I'm writing this just to entertain myself and see if I can make a good mystery story. And I really just want the reviews for constructive criticism.

_Adieu!_


	2. The Alpha

Disclaimer-I don't own Shaman King. If I did, I'd make it so that if someone in the manga dies, they stay dead and not resurrect like fifty times.

I'd like to thank my beta-reader Loving Monday for reading this and placing an "approved" stamp on it. So then, let's get this tea party started!

* * *

The time was 6:40 A.M. It had stopped snowing two hours ago, but winter's greeting had left a lasting mark on the city. The sky was dark gray, the air was cold, and Lyserg found himself yelling the words "I'm sorry, I just got here," over and over again as he gently pushed aside a large crowd of people blocking his path. He swore he would go blind as he was assaulted in camera flashes and was tempted more than once to punch incoming journalists and news reporters in their teeth. The inspector reached a line of policemen closing off one entrance of the Millennium Bridge and, in the distance, saw another group blocking the other half. One of them was about to speak before Lyserg pulled out his badge and displayed the insignia stitched on his uniform. They let him through and he walked briskly towards a man writing on a form attached to a clipboard.

"Ah, good morning, Inspector." The man greeted as he tipped his hat

"Good morning, Sergeant Aamir." Lyserg went under the police line. "I heard it's quite gruesome."

"The dead never look peaceful, Mr. Diethel. They never do."

"I suppose you're right."

The sergeant observed Lyserg for a moment. "Your cheek looks like it got scraped by a bullet."

"I nicked it while shaving this morning." Lyserg grinned at him as the sergeant bought the lie and continued to write in his crime scene journal. When Lyserg reached half of the bridge, he saw one of his colleagues arguing with a forensic specialist. The two were holding measuring tape and placing it over a cadaver whose figure was outlined in white chalk. "I'm just saying, everyone claims he fell out of the sky." The specialist said with an Indian accent placing the measuring tape into a box before withdrawing a camera and a tripod. "There are also people who claim that Russia landed on the moon first. Of course it's a lie, the sky does not rain human begins, Pasing." The other said in a gruff manner. "It rains liquid precipitation and in the case of last night, rained crystallized molecular ice-"

"You could just call it snow, Stephen." Lyserg interjected as he approached them with his hands in his pockets. "Good morning you two."

"Good morning, Lyserg." Pasing placed his tripod on one spot and mounted his camera. He began taking pictures of the body from different angles. "Well, look who's here." said Stephen with a smirk , looking at the cut on his coworker's cheek and his overall lethargic appearance. "Don't you look like hell. Had a rough night?"

"You could say that." Lyserg replied looking at the forensic specialist. "Pasing, once you've developed the photos, could I have some copies? And could you make me a crime scene graph as well?"

"No problem, sir." He kneeled down to look into his box and pulled out a sketchbook and pencil before walking towards the other end of the bridge. Lyserg pulled up his white sleeve and out dropped his crystal pendulum.

"Oh not that stupid thing aga-"

"This stupid thing has been in my family for generations." Lyserg responded calmly before closing his eyes and putting his arm forward as if he were looking at his watch. The crystal pointed to the dead man's face then lowered to his abdominal area. The two of them waited for a minute before Lyserg put down his sleeve and put his hand in his pocket again. "You're a brilliant man, Lyserg, but that brilliance isn't going to last if you keep relying on this….this…"

"Idiocy? Foolishness? Nonsense? Irrationality? Haven't we been over this before, Stephen?" The dowser said. His partner remained silent. "For one, I don't rely solely on dowsing and the sixth sense." Lyserg saw him roll his eyes.

"I too do not deny the facts and physical evidence….but…those are just supplements." Lyserg looked out towards the Thames River in the direction where the Big Ben was located. "Father used to say to me when I was little, that society was complex. Murders occur every day with no particular motive. Even if technology continues to evolve, technology cannot solve what goes on in the human soul." Lyserg turned to face Stephen with his arms crossed. "Whether you want to believe it or not, there are people who exist that do what technology never can." Stephen sighed, looking defeated. "Fine, what's the crystal say this time?"

"What was the cause of death?"

"We're guessing internal hemorrhaging. But that doesn't explain the eyes."

The silver lights of the bridge illuminated on the body of a middle-aged man. Lyserg kneeled down and looked at the corpse up close. This man was rather fat, his arms and legs were spread out in an X and he wore an Italian business suit. His eyes seemed to roll back into his head, blood dripped from his mouth with his tongue hanging out and onto his gray beard. Lyserg wondered why this face looked so familiar.

"What's his name?"

"Alan Moore," responded Stephen.

Lyserg thought for a moment and stared intensely at the dead man's face. "Wasn't he the judge for the Lark case?"

"That's the one."

Lyserg stood abruptly, took out a notepad and a pen from his pocket, and wrote down some notes. "Definitely premeditated." The shaman thought about last night. Apparently his plea for justice had been answered. Alan Moore, the racist judge who had approved the jury's decision to let rapist Thomas Lark loose now lay dead in front of him. Still, even death was too harsh of a punishment to Lyserg.

"How exactly did someone get away with murdering a man on a bridge nearly ten thousand people walk on every day?

"That's the big question. We can't come up with any logical theories."

"Did you interview the witnesses yet?"

"A couple. Most said that they were walking on the bridge when some guy's body fell smack down in the middle and started coughing a lot of blood up before he died. Some say a black shadow ran on the bridge holding Alan and placed him here. Others say they heard howling. I left some people for you, by the way." Lyserg looked at him with dull eyes.

"You know how I hate interviewing people, Lyserg."

"Why's that?"

"Good morning, gentlemen" greeted a large, bald man in a trench coat as he walked by the two detectives. "Good morning, Superintendent." said both of them simultaneously. Something felt off about his superior, he looked different. Lyserg looked at him before realizing it, though he debated with himself whether to say it or not. It seemed like such a stupid question and didn't fit the situation at all, but curiosity got the better of him. "You shaved off your mustache, Superintendent?" It was a well known fact around headquarters that Superintendent C. Lestrade had taken several months to grow a very imposing walrus mustache. Much like the ones his imperialist forefathers had. "Um, well not shaved. It...got caught in a bus door." Lestrade walked away very quickly looking nervous. The two detectives did nothing but stare in his direction.

"That's funny, he told me that mustache was on rent at a community play. He had to give it back because the play ended the other day." said Pasing approaching the two once more with a bundle of papers in his hands. Stephen looked at Lyserg and calmly stated, "I hate interviews, because I hate people. And I hate people because people lie. And lying really makes my job harder than it's supposed to be." He pointed at the now running Lestrade. "Here are the photos you requested, Mr. Diethel." Pasing handed the graph and the photos to Lyserg and began to pack up his forensic equipment. "Do you two have enough information to make a report? We're about to put the body in a bag and send it to the medical examiner's office."

"Thank you. And yes, yes I do," said Lyserg as he turned around. "Oh, and Pasing, tell the coroner to pay special attention the abdomen and throat." The forensic specialist looked at him with hesitation. "Well, sure thing Mr. Diethel…but why?"

"Just trust dowser boy and his magic diamond of wonders," spat Stephen, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he followed Lyserg to the entrance of the bridge were the witnesses were being held. "If only you could see what I see, Gradgrind." Lyserg replied bluntly before jamming his freezing hands into his pockets.

_Looks like someone's decided to play God today._

* * *

The chapter title is a reference to the Greek Alphabet and a chapter in the New Testament called Revelations. Alpha is the first letter of the Greek Alphabet and signifies the beginning of a series of events in Revelations. And the whole mustache thing is based off one of my old teachers who used to make up a different excuse each time we asked him about why he shaved off his mustache.

I'd like to thank the reviewers who gave me hope that this idea wasn't too weird to actually work. The first chapter seemed long and now this chapter seems too short, haha. Anyway, this is more like a set-up, an intro, than a real chapter. Meet Detective Lyserg and his coworkers, blah, blah, blah. Chapter three will be a tad more satisfying. For me at least. I was going to put in a meeting between two people and was considering putting in the visit to the coroner's office, but if I put those in, I'd have to add in other stuff, which would make the chapter way too long. Slow and steady win the race…right?

If you spot room for improvement or something that needs a fixing, please leave your criticisms in a review or PM and I shall take them to heart and make any future reading of this story more enjoyable.

There's a little reference for you Sherlock Holmes, Shooting an Elephant, and Hard Times fans. :)

Adieu!


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